I Promise
by MiaulinK
Summary: "Every time you come back from a fight you didn't win, or a fight with damage incurred on houses and people, you blame yourself. I've seen what happens to you when you believe that it's your fault. It isn't, Danny. There's nothing you can do to prevent it!" "You've been saying that for a long time, Jazz. I know, but I can't stop. It is my fault. You can't change the truth."


**I own nothing! This is a stand-alone one-shot, but it is referenced in my multi-chapter story, End of Me, which is part of a series of stories. If you want to, you can read those, but that is unnecessary. This story takes place before that series begins.**

Danny wobbles weakly through his window. Almost too weak to phase, he barely makes it into his room, and crumbles beside his bed, body screaming. He doesn't move, just gasps sharply. It's a wonder he still feels pain. He sometimes wishes he wouldn't. A flash of blue-tinted white light sears his retinas briefly, and he is dimly aware that his body can no longer maintain ghost form. He knows he needs to make it to the drawer he keeps his first-aid kit in, but he can't. He feels too weak. He doesn't move. The clock tick-tock-tick-tocks. His eyes close as he recalls how he got into this situation.

" _It'll be fun! It's just a trip to the circus. Why study right now? S' not like there's anything else to do around here today," Danny urged. He'd had a relatively ghost-free week, and wanted to take advantage of it while it lasted._

" _Dude, last time we went to the circus, you were mind-controlled. I'm not in the mood for much more death and destruction due to ringmasters." Tucker answered, siding against him. Danny huffed, and looked to Sam for support._

" _Normally, I'd agree with you, Danny, but what about choosing something less likely to kill us?" Sam was, for once, being cautious, apparently. Danny glared at her lightly._

" _Fine." He'd agreed to go to a concert instead, which was seemingly less hazardous than a circus, though concerts were probably just as dangerous if Ember was playing._

 _When they got to the concert, nothing happened, surprisingly. The three of them were a little awed about it. They got out, still humming the tunes. Even Tucker did it, despite his lack of ability to carry a tune. Some of the lyrics were stuck in their heads. At least it hadn't been there long enough to be irritating._

 _Danny was the one who suggested a walk through the park, instead of going the usual way. They jogged some of the way as it became increasingly dark. After a while, they decided to rest. Danny and Tucker still weren't very good at agility, but they were definitely improving._

 _As Danny paused to study a gleaming stone that shined curiously in the dying light, a rustle in the leaves was the only sound that alerted them that something was amiss. A tall, hooded man stepped out of the brush, and aimed a gun at them._

" _Give me your money," the man growled. The trio froze, and chills rippled up Danny's neck. He was a human, Danny recognized, mind stuttering into life from a dead stand-still. Danny knew he was too far away from his friends to make it to them without risking someone getting shot._

 _Sam and Tucker seemed to realize this at the same moment, and gulped. Tucker said, "Y-you know, this is really unnecessary. We could just hand you the money without the dramatics." His hands were clearly shaking. They had often been in danger, but this danger was different. Human._

" _Just hand it over, kids." There was a blood chilling click, a click that signaled the cocking of the pistol. A single pull of the trigger would kill one of them. Slowly, Sam reached into her pockets, pulling out her money. Tucker followed her example, as did Danny. What choice did they have? This would get them all away relatively unharmed._

" _Drop it over there." The man tilted his head to the side, to a moonlit patch of grass. They tossed it over, moving as little as possible. They knew a single wrong or sudden move might make the man start shooting. Danny tried to edge a little closer to his friends._

 _As the task was finished, they let out small sighs of relief, much too early. The careful aiming of the pistol straight at Tucker was all the warning they got, along with a few words. "Can't have any witnesses, can I?"_

 _Danny took off, hoping against hope that he wasn't too late. The world had slowed down. Danny didn't care that he was still human. All he could see was the tightening of the trigger and the look that crossed Tucker's face as the realization struck: death was shooting towards him in the form they'd come to least expect it, from a human. Horror. Terror. A slight motion to the left, as if to run. The world blurred around Danny. His eyes could follow the course the bullet was taking. He threw himself between the gun and his friend. He stumbled. A BOOM seared his ears with pure sound. He knew he'd been hit. He didn't know where._

 _A cry of pain met his ears as he stood still, body weakened with shock. The man slumped to the floor, unconscious. Purple eyes flashed with anger._ Sam _, he thought,_ Sam had fought him _. He nearly collapsed, though the pain didn't hit him yet. It wasn't until a few moments later that he noticed the rapidly growing red, bloody blossom that stained his shirt. He fell._

 _Sam was above him, shaking him. Her words were hard to comprehend. He made out several words, though: "Danny…Jazz…home. Go…medical kit. Jazz'll help." The words themselves smeared together, slurred and indistinct. His stunned brain, still processing getting shot, managed to get the idea, though. He needed to go home and get stitched. He should probably ask Jazz to help-it sounded like that was what they wanted. He managed to glance up, and force his transformation. Slowly, laboriously, he fought his way into the sky and flew home._

Danny reflects that Jazz will probably want to kill him for not asking her for help. He doesn't want her to worry more than she already does, though. He stumbles to his desk, and opens it, pulling out his box. His fingers are numb. Tired. Reels of bandages roll around the room, and he can't bend down to get them. Instead, he pulls at the ends of them. It's a struggle to lift his hands above his head to remove his shirt. Finally, though, he manages it. The bullet has gone through his right shoulder, and it hurts to turn.

Slowly, he manages to glimpse the other side. There's no exit hole. The bullet is still in there. He knows his collarbone may be broken because of the angle of the shot. It takes work to phase the bullet out. Precious energy is lost on it, but it's worth it. As the gore-covered bullet drops into his hand, he hears the door creak open.

"Danny?" The sound his sister produces is made of pure shock. He knows that the damage looks worse than it is. He flinches slightly. "What happened?" Jazz almost sprints towards him, only stopping when she's close enough to touch him.

"I got shot," Danny mumbles.

"Do you need help? Should I call the hospital?"

"NO! Don't call the hospital! I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Just tell me what to do." Jazz is fierce, determined to help. His willpower crumbles. He does need help.

"Fine." He allows his shoulders to hunch in on themselves a little. "Can you stitch me? It's really hard for me to use this arm right now."

He can see the expression that crosses her face. Fear. He knows she doesn't like blood. She steels herself though. Anything for her little brother. She leans forward and grabs the needle he managed to thread and pull through his skin. "Have you got painkillers?"

"No."

Silence. She stitches him with small stitches. He gasped softly and forces himself not to shudder or flinch as the needle passes in and out of his skin. He hopes it'll be over soon.

"Sam called me. She told me what happened, and told me to head to your room to help. Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"You're not fine."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Because I want you to tell me. What's wrong?"

Danny takes in a deep breath. Clenches his eyes shut. Tries to resist the impulse to say everything. He fails. "Everything. We got attacked and I couldn't protect them. Tucker almost got _killed_ - _would have_ gotten killed. They're in danger every time I'm with them. This was supposed to be a _fun_ weekend, but _no!_ If I hadn't asked them to go to the concert, they'd be safe. If I had never been their friend, they would have been happy, and much safer."

"There's no way you can stop them, Danny. They're your friends," Jazz replies.

"But I'll kill them one day. It'll all be my fault." Danny turns towards her, wrenching the needle out of her hands by accident.

Jazz plants her hand gently on his shoulder and says, "No, it won't. It's their decision. Besides, if you'd never been their friend, Amity Park wouldn't have a hero."

"If I'd never made friends with them, maybe Amity wouldn't need a hero," Danny retorts.

"You can't change the flow of time, Danny. Anyway, Mom and Dad still would have built their portal."

"Maybe not, though."

"You're not to blame for everything, little brother. Please, try to remember that."

"Well, I'm the one to blame for a lot of this," he shoots back.

"Danny…" Jazz hesitates for a moment, "Danny, we're worried for you." She bites her lip. She hasn't resumed stitching yet. She has to say something.

"Why? I can take care of myself, you know." He snaps.

"Let me speak!" She says.

"Fine." Danny crosses his arms, rife with anger.

"We're worried, Danny. Every time you leave to fight, you might not come back. We have to help. We're here to help you. Okay?" Her eyes are soft as she continues. "I know you're practically grown up now, but we're still here. Every time you come back from a fight you didn't win, or a fight with damage incurred on houses and people, you blame yourself. I've seen what happens to you when you believe that it's your fault. It isn't, Danny. There's nothing you can do to prevent it!"

"You've been saying that for a long time, Jazz. I know, but I can't stop. It _is_ my fault. You can't change the truth." Danny speaks quickly, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with hidden tears.

"Remember how you say you always keep your promises, Danny? I want you to give me a promise."

"What sort of promise?"

"I want you to promise that even if we all die tonight, even if you think it's because you didn't get there in time, you won't hurt yourself because of it. I want you to live on. Please, just give me this one promise, Danny." Her voice changes to soft, hidden sobs. Her hand is tight against his arm as she waits for an answer.

"I wouldn't kill myself, Jazz. I'm not that depressed."

"Promise!" She is cutting off his blood circulation with her grip now. "Things change."

Danny realizes how seriously she takes his refusal to say anything, and takes a deep breath.

"I promise."


End file.
